The Rancher's Request

by Stella Bagwell

  Then that meant Juliet had time to be long gone before the man showed up.

  “I’m sorry, Gracia, I really need to get back to the office. But if it’s okay with your grandfather, why don’t you walk with me to my car?”

  “Well—it’s not like having a soda together,” she said halfheartedly. “But it’s better than nothing.”

  In another rush of Spanish, Gracia explained to her grandfather that she would return in a few minutes. Juliet told the older man goodbye and then the two of them left the room.

  As they walked down the wide, tiled corridor, Gracia said, “It always makes me sad when I come to visit Grandpa. I want him to get well so he can come home to the ranch. He was my best friend. We rode horses together and he was training a cutter for me so that I could compete. But now—” She broke off with a wistful sigh. “Well—I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

  Sadness for the girl filled Juliet’s heart. “There isn’t anyone else on the ranch that could train your horse for you?”

  Gracia’s head tilted from one shoulder to the other. “Sure, there is. But it wouldn’t be the same. My grandpa is the best. He trained champions. It’s got to be me and him and Traveler.”

  “I understand,” Juliet replied. “And I’ll pray for your grandpa to get well. Sometimes that’s the best medicine of all.”

  Gracia’s expression was a mixture of hope and appreciation as she glanced up at Juliet. “That’s what Cook says, too. But I don’t think my daddy believes prayers will do anything. He goes to mass, but he never smiles when he leaves the church. He’s always mad. Guess ’cause Mommy is gone and Grandpa is kinda lost to us, you know.”

  Juliet didn’t know what to say. Hearing Gracia’s words had somehow exposed her to Matt Sanchez’s pain and she felt as though she’d stepped onto private ground without an invitation.

  Resting a hand on Gracia’s shoulder, she said gently, “Sometimes it’s hard to be happy when things go wrong. That’s when we have to have hope that things will get better.”

  Gracia nodded with adultlike understanding. “That’s what I think. I’m going to keep hoping that Grandpa will walk and talk again.” She smiled, then abruptly changed the subject. “Do you live here in town?”

  The two of them had reached the main entrance of the building and Juliet pushed open the plate glass door and motioned for Gracia to precede her through it.

  Once they were outside, Juliet answered, “Yes, I live on the edge of town in a house on Travis Street. It’s small and old, but I like it. Maybe you can come see it sometime. If you can get permission,” Juliet quickly added. From the bitter remarks Matt had flung at her, she very much doubted he would allow Gracia to visit her, but at least she could let the girl know she was welcome in her home.

  “Gee, that would be great. Do you have any pets?”

  “A cat. He’s a big, fat Persian and he loves attention.”

  Gracia’s brown eyes lit up. “I have a cat, too! Sam’s a Siamese with a crooked tail. He loves to catch birds and Cook has been threatening to put a bell around his neck for killing the mockingbirds that eat at the backyard feeder. She hasn’t, though. Daddy says it’s Sam’s born instinct to catch birds and it wouldn’t be natural to try to stop him. The big prey on the little, that’s what he always says.”

  Yeah, Juliet thought dourly. And in his case, she just happened to be the little.

  Out in the parking lot of the Sunset Manor, several yards away from Juliet’s car, Matt Sanchez killed the engine to his truck and reached for the door handle at the same time. As usual, he was in a hurry. A cattle buyer was going to meet him at the Sandbur in less than one hour. He was going to have to break the speed limit to make the meeting in time.

  He should have asked Cordero to pick up Gracia. In Matt’s opinion, his younger brother didn’t visit their father enough. But Mingo would be expecting his eldest son to show up and Matt didn’t want to disappoint his father. Short visits from friends and family was all the man had to look forward to.

  What the hell?

  Matt’s hand paused on the door of the truck as his gaze fastened on the woman and girl walking down the steps of the building. It was that Dallas woman with his daughter!

  What was she doing here? And why the hell hadn’t she taken heed of the warning to stay away from his family?

  Matt’s first instinct was to burst out of the truck and interrupt the little tête-à-tête going on between the newspaperwoman and his daughter, but he desperately quelled the urge. Gracia was just now coming round to him after that incident in the yard on the day of the wedding. He didn’t want to embarrass her again. Juliet Madsen had been right about that and the fact that he’d been thinking more about his own feelings than his daughter’s. It had taken two days of the silent treatment from Gracia to make him admit such a thing to himself, but damned if he would ever apologize to the sexy blonde. She’d probably take pleasure in laughing at him.

  Before he knew it, his gaze was traveling up and down her body, appreciating, in spite of himself, the full, luscious curves encased in a black jersey top and a pair of gray slacks. She was not a willowy, fragile woman by any means and he realized her lusty shape did more than stir the man in him. Each time he laid eyes on the woman, he felt an instant fire in his loins. It didn’t make sense. Especially since Erica had died, he’d not even wanted a woman.

  But having Juliet against him, even for those few moments, had burned all sorts of distracting impressions into his brain. He could remember the curved indention of her waist, the full press of her breasts and the soft skin exposed by the skimpy dress she’d been wearing. Yet none of those memories were as strong and dangerous as the kiss of her lips. Like a blind man with heightened senses, he had every curve, every scent, every taste detailed in his mind.

  Now after three days had passed, he realized it had been a grave mistake to have kissed her. He couldn’t forget. And a part of him didn’t want to.

  All sorts of mixed feelings raced through him as he watched Juliet and Gracia exchange a few more words, then Juliet leaned down and pressed a swift kiss on Gracia’s cheek. In turn, his daughter gave her a brief hug, then turned and raced back up the steps and into the building.

  The affectionate exchange hurt him in ways he didn’t want to think about. He’d tried so hard to be a good father to Gracia. Especially since she had only one parent. But it seemed as though the more he tried to get close, the further she’d drifted away from him. Maybe it was because she was going to be turning thirteen next week, he reasoned with himself. Teenagers couldn’t be figured out.

  With the flick of his wrist, he quickly opened the door and stepped down to the ground. The movement caught Juliet’s attention and she turned where she stood to look in his direction. For a moment her beauty stunned him all over again and he swallowed, a sudden strange thickness in his throat.

  He walked over to her.

  “Miss Madsen,” he greeted curtly.

  “Hello, Mr. Sanchez,” she said.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Smiling wanly, she reached up and captured the blond strands of hair being whipped by the wind. “Yes, it’s a small world.”

  Listening to her twangy drawl was like warm pudding slipping over his tongue. Sweet and smooth. “I noticed you just happened to run into my daughter.”

  She drew her shoulders back and his eyes promptly fell to her breasts.

  “That’s right. I just happened to be here working this afternoon.”

  His mouth twisted. “I’ll bet.”

  Her eyes narrowed on his chiseled face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  His weight shifted from one boot to the other. “I’m sure you didn’t know my father was a resident here,” he said with just enough sarcasm to send her brows flying upward.

  “Actually, I didn’t. I happened to be walking down the hall and saw Gracia.”

  “I wish I could believe that.”

  Hefting a camera bag higher onto her
shoulder, she turned in the direction of her car. “Believe me, Mr. Sanchez, in spite of your enormous ego, I’m not that interested in you or your family. Tell Gracia it was very nice to see her again.”

  But not him. She couldn’t have spoken the words more clearly. Matt was wondering why that should bother him when she started striding away from him. Before he could stop himself, he marched after her.

  “Where are you going?”

  As soon as the question popped out of his mouth he knew it was a mistake. She turned on her heel and shot him a droll look down her nose.

  “I do have a job, Mr. Sanchez. I still have work to finish this evening.”

  So did he. That damned cattle buyer was probably already at the ranch. Why in hell wasn’t he worrying about him instead of this sexpot with a tart mouth?

  Maybe because she’s been on your mind ever since you kissed her.

  Shoving that irksome thought away, he said, “I want to know what you think you’re doing trying to insert yourself into my family. Particularly, through my daughter.”

  “Insert? God, you’re a sick man. Or maybe I should say fearful. Is that it, Mr. Sanchez? You’re actually afraid your daughter might seek out attention from someone other than you? Or do you have something far bigger to worry about?”

  His jaw tightened to the point that it was aching, while his hands itched to reach out and grab her. It would give him pleasure, extreme pleasure, to shut her mouth exactly the way he’d shut it three days ago. But this time he wouldn’t let himself forget that he was a gentleman. At least, not here in a parking lot where anyone might be watching.

  “What are you trying to insinuate?” he countered.

  “That you’re overreacting for some reason.”

  He was. And he wasn’t exactly sure why. True, he didn’t want his grandparents’ history plastered about in the paper. But he’d be a fool to think that the locals didn’t gossip about his late family. Nate and Sara had been local icons in their era and because so much mystery had swirled around his death and her money, the interest would never die.

  Releasing a long breath, he said, “You’re right. And if I’m wrong about you, I’m sorry. But then, how could I possibly know I can trust you?”

  She gave him a halfhearted grin and Matt could feel his gut tighten at the sight of white teeth against lush pink lips. Everything about her shouted sensuality and he could only wonder what it would be like to have her in his bed, to hear her whimper with pleasure and sigh with contentment.

  “You can’t know, Mr. Sanchez. Except that I told you I was here on another assignment—you’ll read about it in the newspaper. Also, I met your father. And since his speech is impeded it’s pretty obvious I wasn’t here to question him.”

  He looked at her with surprise. “You met Dad?”

  She nodded. “Gracia wanted to introduce me and I was glad. Your father seems like a very nice gentleman. I wished we could have visited verbally, I think we would be friends.”

  No doubt. Mingo had always adored pretty women. From afar that is. As far as Matt knew his father had always been a faithful husband to his wife. But Mingo had never hidden the fact that he liked to look at the opposite sex. Well, he’d certainly gotten an eyeful with Juliet.

  “My dad is a nice gentleman,” he agreed.

  “Gracia is lost without him on the ranch.”

  It had taken Matt months to realize just how much his daughter was devastated by Mingo’s absence on the ranch. Apparently it had only taken Juliet Madsen a few minutes to figure it out.

  “I know. But there’s not much to be done. He needs a lot of personal care that we couldn’t give him at home. We thought about hiring a round-the-clock nurse for him, but one person, especially a woman, couldn’t deal with all the lifting and turning. Besides, Dad wants it this way.”

  She actually looked disappointed and Mingo wondered if she really did feel compassion for his father. It certainly looked that way.

  “Is there any hope that he might get better?” she asked.

  He shrugged one shoulder much in the same way that Gracia had. “The doctors haven’t ruled out all hope, but they’re not very encouraging, either. We have more tests scheduled for him in Houston at the end of the month. If we’re lucky, something will come out of them.”

  Juliet nodded. “I hope so. I’ll pray for him.”

  Prayers, he thought bitterly. Who was this woman kidding? For several years after Erica had died, he’d prayed constantly for the rest of his family to be safe and together. In return his father was nearly killed, his strong healthy body reduced to helplessness.

  “I have to go. Goodbye, Miss Madsen.”

  He quickly walked away before either of them could say anything else. Inside the nursing home, he headed straight to his father’s room and found the man alone, watching a program on television.

  At the sight of his eldest son, Mingo switched off the set and gave Matt a wide smile.

  “Hi, Dad. Where’s Gracia?”

  The man made a motion of lifting something to his mouth and drinking. Matt guessed, “Gone to get you a soda?”

  Mingo nodded, then reached for the pad and pencil he always kept in a pocket on his chair. He quickly scribbled two words and handed the paper to his son.

  Blond woman.

  Matt looked at him. “Yes, Juliet told me that she met you.”

  Mingo’s smile grew broader as his eyes gleamed with pleasure. He then pointed questioningly to his ring finger and Matt knew instantly what was on his father’s mind.

  “No. She isn’t married.”

  Mingo pointed at Matt, then lifted his fingers to his lips in a kissing motion.

  Matt groaned. Dear God, she’d already gotten to his father, too. Where was it all going to end?

  Chapter Three

  For the next three days Juliet worked on several pieces involving social events and a political issue being squabbled over by the town’s council. In between all that, Juliet began to go through the old archives, hunting for anything involving the Sandbur ranch. She’d discovered that the ranch had been a popular news item over the years and as she pieced the bits of information together, she learned far more than she’d ever expected.

  As for Gilbert and his idea to print a story about Sara Ketchum’s so-called buried treasure, Juliet hated it. These past few days, she’d been hoping against hope that the man would have a change of heart and tell her to drop the whole idea. So far that hadn’t happened and as the days began to click by, her mind was spinning faster, searching for a way out.

  What was she going to do? Tell Gilbert to kiss her plump behind? She didn’t think he’d bat an eye about firing her. In the months she’d worked at the Fannin Review, she’d not seen a drop of compassion in him. And no doubt he’d like any excuse to replace her with cheaper labor. She didn’t want to lose her job. But she couldn’t bring herself to write something about a family that might cause them embarrassment or pain. Not that she was the least bit worried about Matt Sanchez. As far as Juliet was concerned, he could chew on any words she wrote and choke trying to swallow them. But Gracia was a different matter. The child had already been through more than any young person should have to endure. The last thing she needed was to see sordid details about her great-grandparents plastered in the hometown paper.

  The telephone on her desk rang, interrupting her dour thoughts. She tried to push them aside as she answered, “Juliet Madsen here.”

  “Hi, Juliet! This is Gracia. I know I shouldn’t call you at work. Can you talk a minute?”

  She’d just been thinking about the girl and now here she was on the phone, Juliet thought. Was it some sort of omen? Or was something wrong?

  “Sure. Go right ahead.”

  “Well, I called ’cause I want to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow night. I’m going to be thirteen and Daddy said I could have any sort of party I want, so I’m inviting every friend I have and that means you, too.”

  Juliet stared thoughtfully dow
n at the papers piled upon her desk. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint the girl. But the idea of facing Matt Sanchez under any circumstances was a troubling one.

  “Is the party going to be at the ranch?” Juliet asked.

  “Yes. It’s gonna be a barn party. So wear jeans and boots. Cook is gonna fix lots of good things to eat and a giant chocolate cake.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Juliet replied noncommittally.

  “Oh, it will be! Say you’ll come! I won’t have a happy birthday unless you do.”

  Juliet seriously doubted her lack of attendance would ruin anything about Gracia becoming a teenager, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she said, “I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Gracia.”

  There was a short pause and then, “Why not? Don’t you want to come?”

  “Of course. It’s a big deal to turn thirteen. And I’d like to be there. But your father and I aren’t exactly friends and—”

  “I’ve already asked him if I could invite you. He said yes.”

  After plenty of begging, tears or pouting, Juliet figured. Probably a little of all three. God, she was going to feel awkward, but she couldn’t refuse.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m sure, Juliet. Gee, I wouldn’t lie. I’d be grounded for life if Daddy caught me lying.”

  Juliet couldn’t help but smile. At least Matt Sanchez cared enough to teach his daughter morals. Hugh Madsen couldn’t have cared less if Juliet told a fib. As long as she stayed out of his hair, he was a happy man.

  “Okay. I’ll be there. What time?”

  “Oh cool! It’s at seven. But you can come early and that way I can show Traveler to you before everybody else arrives.”

  The fact that Gracia considered her a special guest touched Juliet far more than it should have and, in spite of Mr. Sensuous Sanchez, she found herself looking forward to seeing the young girl again. “All right. I’ll be there. And thank you for inviting me, Gracia.”